Hemoptysis
by Pinlicous
Summary: Sam awakes to Dean worrying over him. He realizes Dean's found out about his dangerous cough.


**Author's Note **I could not, for the life of me, write this thing. I dislike it. Burn it to the ground!

Prompt from kissmewinchester via tumblr.

* * *

Sam awakes with ringing ears and blurry vision. He hasn't had a migraine this bad since he was still having visions and it confuses the hell out of him. But when he tries to lift himself up from whatever surface he's stretched out on, a large, rough hand pushes him back down. He realizes then that he's on the floor of the bunker. He also notices Dean out of the corner of his eye, but can't make sense of much. He tries to look around the room, see what might be going on, but his eyes are sting and all he can do is close them tightly.

"Sammy, don't move, okay?"

He can hear the familiar voice, but his pounding headache is blocking him from figuring out who it is. Common sense tells him it's most likely Dean, but at this point, nothing seems logical anymore. Nothing feels as if it's still anymore, either. Everything is spinning. His head is out of control.

"What's going on," Sam manages and finds his voice to be hoarse and deep. His throat aches and he feels liquid at the side of his mouth. The taste is a deep rusty flavor.

He shoots up again, eyes wide. The blood. Dean sees the blood. He has to.

"Damn it, Sammy, I told you not to move," Dean orders harshly, applying the same pressure on Sam's chest from before. Sam doesn't budge. Instead, he places his hand on Dean's and searches the older man's face. Sam can make out just enough. His green eyes are upset, clearly, but there is also a hint of relief. "Okay, alright. Just, be careful, got it? I don't know what's wrong and I'm not gonna find out on an autopsy table."

Sam smiles despite himself and begins to talk, but his throat stutters and begins to constrict. He tries to swallow the blood that comes rushing up in coughs but there is little success. He can feel Dean patting his back and it's the only thing keeping him semi-coherent at the moment. He leans into Dean heavily and Dean's arms wrap around him tightly, but loose enough to allow for Sam's shoulders to move as he coughs. He feel's his big brother's hands run through his hair. Sam closes his eyes again and concentrates on the smooth path his brother's fingers are making on his scalp.

"Shh, it's okay, Sammy. I got ya," Dean whispers, and it's the softest Sam has heard Dean's voice in a long time.

Dean raises a hand to Sam's forehead. It's so cool against his burning skin that Sam nudges into it, allowing a whimper to escape his lips. Dean can't help but chuckle and Sam enjoys the rumbles of his older brother's chest.

Sam stops coughing after a few minutes and is luckily conscious enough to form words.

"I'm sorry, Dean, I-," Sam begins to apologize for his secret, but is easily hushed by Dean.

"Shh," Dean soothes again. "Come on. Let's get you to a bed."

Dean hooks his arms under Sam's armpits, hoisting him up slowly, but surely. Sam grunts, pain shooting through his skull at the change in elevation. They manage to stagger to the doorway of Dean's bedroom before Sam collapses.

"Woah, there, come on. You can make it, Sammy," Dean goads gently, tugging on Sam to get up. Sam grasps the door frame with all the strength he can muster and heaves himself up at an awkward angle. He ends up more diagonal than vertical, but Dean makes up for it, acting as his crutch. Sam leans in close to Dean's ear, about to say something, when their skin makes contact with each other. Sam feels the coolness of Dean's skin again and can't help but rub his cheek into it.

Dean is laughing lightly and it ease's Sam's worries. His headache is still pounding at his head and his knees are still wobbly like all hell, but this little bit of Dean is all he needs. Sam tugs at Dean's shirt and Dean grunts in response.

They end up halfway on and off the bed, but Sam is more or less there. Dean lift's Sam's legs up and over on the bed fully, snickering at how much of Sam's feet hang over the edge.

"Ya Sasquatch," Dean chuckles.

Sam's eyes drift from the ceiling to Dean's face and the green of his eyes are all Sam can focus on now. He tries reaching out for him, but Dean is gone by the time his eyes focus enough. Sam's slightly worried of his brothers absence, but the dip in the bed reassures him. Dean is back with a two washcloths, both wet and cool. Without asking, Dean wipes away the blood from Sam's mouth with one, wrapping the other up enough to fit correctly on Sam's forehead.

"You take such good care of me," Sam speaks, but it only comes out as a whisper. He can feel his throat constricting again, but a lightly brush of Dean's fingertips through Sam's hair calms him down.

"Don't talk, Sammy. Please."

Sam nods in reply, smiles instead of trying to vocalize his appreciation. Dean brushes hair from Sam's face, his cool palm runs against his forehead and makes Sam sigh. Sam closes his eyes to revel once again, but is surprised by soft lips against his own.

"I'll take care of you, Sammy. No matter what, okay?" Dean assures, mouthing at Sam's lips. Sam wants to kick himself into gear, be able to push his mouth back at Dean's, but his strength is all but drained. He whimpers in protest when Dean moves away. Dean shakes his head, a smile forming on his face again. "Baby."

Sam just stares at him, hazel on green colliding as if the world would end if they didn't. Sam licks his lips to emphasis his longing, but Dean must know already. He just smirks and backs away.

"That's what you get for keeping secrets," Dean chastises, but his tone is mocking. Sam still can't help the pang of guilt in his gut, and if he could speak, he'd apologize a million times. Dean recognizes the pleads in Sam's eyes and his face falls and his eyebrows come together. "Ah, Sammy, I didn't mean it like that."

Sam reaches a weak hand up to Dean's cheek, brushing the pad of his thumb along it. He nods slowly. Dean comes to meet his lips again in his own apology.

"I... ya know, I...," Dean stutters, looking off to the side, avoiding eye contact as usual.

Sam shoots him a look when Dean returns his gaze to his brother. _If you don't say it, I will._

"Fine, fine...," Dean breathes. He inhales deeply, keeping his eyes trained on the golden fleck's of Sam's eyes. Exhaling through his nose, he opens his mouth again quietly huffs, "I love you." And more loudly, he continues, "And you're in huge trouble once you get better."


End file.
